Applesauce
by Sargent Snarky
Summary: Mark has managed to acquire a bag of fresh apples from the grocery where he now works. [challenge 8] Pure silliness.


**Title**: Applesauce

**Rating**: PG

**Genre**: Humor

**Summary**: Mark has managed to acquire a bag of fresh apples from the grocery where he now works. (written for Challenge Central, Challenge 8)

**Word Count: **829

**Disclaimer: **RENT I do not own.

**A/N**: The challenge is thus: We must have these things included in the fic: apples and Roger tripping (as in physically tripping).

So, here's my response to this challenge. I've actually had it completed for a while, now, but when I went to upload it, the servers were busy, and then I forgot about it. Hehe…

Onto the story!

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STORY:

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"I'm home," Mark called as he slid open the door with his foot and trudged in, bearing two paper bags, chock full of groceries. Now that he worked at a grocery store (and thus got an employee discount), it was much easier for them to actually have a decent food supply. And occasionally, Mark was able to score some special treat, something they normally only ever saw through the window on someone else's table.

As he heaved the two bags onto the counter and dropped the keys next to them, Mark was a little surprised to hear no greeting whatsoever from any corner of the apartment. However, he quickly dismissed this, figuring that Roger and Mimi were away or napping or… something. It could be anything, really, knowing those two. So, Mark didn't let it bother him.

But, on the off chance that they were just ignoring him, he called, louder, "I've got food!"

Again, no response for a moment, and Mark had just decided that the two must've been away when he heard a soft grumbling groan from the couch. He looked over – he hadn't thought to look there. Roger was just sitting up from what was, apparently, a nap. The musician blinked over at the filmer, then yawned.

"Hi, Mark," he said in a yawn-distorted voice, standing up and stretching as he did so. "Please say you got something other than powdered soup and cereal," he then begged, wandering over to see.

Mark grinned in response. "Oh, I most certainly did. Something better!" He reached into one of the bags, grasping onto his prize, the special treat he'd been able to acquire.

Roger lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah…? What?"

"Apples!" Mark proudly produced a plastic bag holding five fresh apples, and he held it up for Roger to see.

The musician's lips twitched into a smile, more in amusement of Mark's ecstatic delight than at the apples. He opened his mouth to make a remark regarding the apples, but went interrupted by a knock on the door. So, Roger closed his mouth, shrugged and wandered over to said door, sliding it open with a, "Hello?"

Mimi was there, looking dead tired and not exactly well. Not that she had looked exactly well at _all_ in the nine months or so from Christmas (though, miracle of miracles she had managed to maintain her health enough to get through withdrawal), but today she looked particularly tired. "Hey, Roger," she said in a breathy, sleepy tone.

"Hey, Meems!" Roger visibly brightened upon seeing her. "Come in! Mark has food, including… apples!"

"Apples? You mean, we have fresh fruit?" she asked, a smile slowly forming. "Good… I was getting sick of soup."

"Do you want one, now?" asked Roger, leading her over to the couch and sitting down with her.

Mimi shook her head, leaning against the dilapidated piece of furniture's arm and yawning. "No… I think I'll… I'll just sleep for a bit."

Roger frowned in concern, glancing from Mimi over to Mark, who was watching in silence. Mark sighed and took the apples out of the bag, setting them along the counter. Then, he mumbled something about films and disappeared into his room. Roger watched his roommate vanish, then suddenly grinned, mind alight with an idea.

Leaving Mimi for a moment, Roger rose to go over to the counter and snag the apples, which he then brought over to Mimi. She blinked at him, lifting an eyebrow curiously.

"Whatcha doing?" she asked.

"You'll see," said Roger, picking up three of the apples and leaving the other two sitting next to Mimi. Then, he stood up and backed away a bit. At this point in time, he tossed the apples in the air and began to juggle.

Mimi stared at him for a long moment, then smiled. "Bravo, Roger."

"Toss me another," he instructed. "Not to low, but not to high, either."

Mimi complied, and Roger caught it, seamlessly working it into his juggling act. After a few minutes of this, Mimi tossed in the final apple. After Roger got that stabilized, he began to prance about, showing off, to the delight of Mimi who laughed and cheered. Mark, wondering what was going on, poked his head out and froze.

"My apples!" he cried, hurrying out. "Roger no!"

Roger, startled by Mark's sudden appearance, turned a bit to quickly and slipped upon the wooden boards, loosing his balance. His arms flailed, as he tried to regain balance – but to no avail. Roger went splat and so did the apples.

Mimi gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. Mark, on the other hand, closed his eyes and moaned. "Roger… why…? No… no… don't answer… just… augh!"

Roger, after recovering his breath, pushed himself up to his knees and looked around him at the splattered apples. Then, he grinned, an idea forming in his mind. He looked up at Mark and said, "Look on the bright side! Now, at least, we have applesauce!"

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END

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A/N: So… what did you think? Personally, I don't think it's my best work, and I think this scenario would be much better shown visually, but ah well… Even if you hated it, please leave a review! I LIVE FOR REVIEWS!

Love, Snarky


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